Found Blessings

Today, I stood up at the front of St. Paul's United church and delivered the Sunday service message.   As I stood up there, I felt grounded and centred, mostly due to the loving support of my friends and family, some of whom were there sitting in the pews smiling up at me throughout it all.  I absolutely LOVED looking up to the balcony and seeing my son looking down on me smiling.  He knows now that his Momma has her strength back.    My daughter left for summer camp yesterday so she wasn't there but I know she was thinking of me and I her. 

The whole process has been spiritually enhancing beyond my expectations.  It allowed me to travel beyond the line on my horizon to a place I have never visited.  I have "lived" outside of my comfort zone for over a week trying to "get it right......."  and it wasn't until 2 o'clock this morning when I found myself standing in my kitchen practising reading the last version I had just completed with enough energy to light up the street!  

I could write a whole blog post on the process... and how it was intertwined with a whole bunch of other "happenings" that have occured over the past two weeks.....work, home and play stuff.  What a TRIP!  Life has a way of pulling you back up onto your feet in the heat of adversity and kissing you with affirmation and love from the most interesting places.  It has been a week of good energy.  Good strong life affirming energy on all levels.  

I have so much I want to write about....... however that will wait........ for now I want to post my sermon to share.   

PS.......to everyone who has emailed me, checked on me, phoned me, and sent me their kind wishes and prayers....... thank you, thank you.  Know that you were all with me today.  I felt your presence strongly.  I really did.  I sure wasn't up there alone. 

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Found Blessings.

This morning, I would like to begin by reading a blessing written by John O'Donohue.   It's from his book, Bless the Space Between Us.  For the past couple of months I have read it aloud to myself every morning.  It has given me strength and focus to start a new day.  Today,  share it with you......

I arise today

Blessed by all things,

Wings of breath,

Delight of eyes,

Wonder of whisper,

Intimacy of touch

Eternity of soul, 

Urgency of thought

Miracle of health,

Embrace of God.

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,

Clear in word, 

Gracious in awareness,

Courageous in thought, 

Generous in love.........

God’s abundance.  How do you define that?  It seems like such an easy concept to explain doesn’t it?  Personally, I found it was almost too big to harness. There are SO many paths one can journey on to seek out the meaning….. meandering paths of thought FULL ideas.  

As I prepared what I wanted to share with you today, I searched for it through many angles…from a theoretical perspective as well as one that was faith based ….. I looked at it through the lens of a Mom as well as the other roles I am in my life.  I looked at it through the eyes of a writer too.  And I have to admit, that the more I thought about it,  the more I wrote about Abundance.  Then I would lose myself in the harvesting of treasures AND would write MORE.   

It kind of overwhelmed me.  Which actually made me laugh because I found myself overwhelmed by abundance.  A little ironic don’t you think?   I probably have enough written down for a book!  Who knows?  Maybe I’m onto something.  

But that’s for another day.  Today, I humbly stand up here, as a human being who has been given the gift of spiritual learning through the process of reflection and contemplation, through many discussions with friends and family…..inside spiritually quiet times when I was able to see all of the “found blessings” that make my cup runneth over. Daily.  It’s been a beautifully challenging experience.  I feel richer for it.  

Throughout most of internal travels however, I was missing the key ingredient because I was being too fancy with my brain and it was making me too wordy. Too much thinking, the people in my life say …. I think too much. 

Yesterday, I took a trip to a place tucked into the woods near Norton.  Smith’s Falls.  It was beautiful.  The walk through the woods filled me with a sense of peace.  When I reached my destination…. At the bottom of this resplendent waterfalls, I sat down on a rock and looked up to the top of the gorge where the sun filtered through the pine and sparkling on the tumbling water rushing down the rocks in a formation of its own making. Automatically, I found my breath.  I slowed down, mind and body and let abundance find me.  In a matter of moments….. connected to nature and God’s beauty…..

I realized that….

Abundance is the collection of bountiful feelings we experience when connecting with nature and with others in a way that provides us with the nutritious gift of grace.

It’s about learning how to open your senses to a new awareness that no matter what may be happening in your life, or what you are observing God provides these gifts as blessings.  Bread for the journey is bountiful.  It is up to us to share the fullness of our hearts.  

It’s about recognizing all that we have to give and receive is more than enough and then some!  Just like the story of the fishes and the loaves.  There were twelve full baskets left over!  We have much to give……and then some.  

Jean Vanier, who lives his values and beliefs every day through the L’Arche community where he resides, wrote an amazing thought provoking book called Becoming Human…… In it he explains….  "When we tell stories, we touch hearts. If we talk about theories and speak about ideas, the mind may assimilate them but the heart remains untouched. It is the story of a specific person that is the way to the heart."  I firmly believe he’s onto something!   This is the gift of abundance.

Heart stories……. Connecting….. feeling loved, significant, humbled, affirmed, forgiven, listened to…….. Think about how you feel when someone really and truly listens to you…. From their heart.  Is that not abundance?  Think about how you feel when you are able to put aside all the busy demands, the list of TO DO’s….. when You are able to give your full attention to someone in need…… to listen.  From your heart. What a learning gift.  A simple human gift, which opens our eyes to the faces of God.  

As a counsellor and facilitator, I have been blessed with the opportunity to connect with many hearts.  I’m a storykeeper.  As a person who loves to write and to interact with others, I am a storyteller.  Both sides of the coin.  I can’t tell you how many times I have met with someone in their home, in my office, in the hospital, in a coffee shop and was left feeling enriched beyond words.  As a human being, I too have been blessed with many people in my life who listen to my stories too, and the same feeling abounds.  We share.  We tune into abundance and we are changed forever.  

Not long ago, I had the privilege of sitting in a hospital room with a young man who was dying of Crohn's disease. I was shocked at how skeletal he was.... how unbelievably sick he had been since I had first met him a few years back. His energy was very low. His lips parched and dry because he was receiving all his nutrients and food through a tube in his stomach. He was too weak to digest it any other way. In the hospital for 4 months at the time of our meeting, he had suffered through 3 painful surgeries and admitted that he didn't know if he had the strength to go through another..... another had been scheduled.

At first, I didn't know if he could physically handle my visit, but I was there to help him get some extra money by applying for a disability pension.  He needed the money and greeted me with as much energy as he could conjure up.

This man was a preacher.   Before he fell too ill, he’d led a parish church in a rural area in Northern New Brunswick.  Despite the constant pain and ill health,  his faith was still very much intact.

He spoke of the kindness of the hospital staff......how they arranged for a private room for him even though he didn't necessarily qualify. He lit up when he talked about his best friend, who had been visiting when I arrived and praying quietly with him....how they had studied together to be preachers....how they used to go fishing together. He talked about how blessed he was to have three children and how heartbreaking it was for him to realize that he probably wouldn’t  be around to see them grow up to be adults. He pointed out the flowers that arrived in the middle of a snowstorm the day before (a little miracle he called it.) He smiled broadly. 

He then lamented on how much he missed the ulimate freedom of going for a drive into the country all by himself. And as he reflected....as this man with such poor health, and with no money reflected....he told me how rich he was in so many ways.

2 hours later, I left his hospital room far richer too than I had been when I arrived. I left with the sound of rural parish church bell ringing inside.  A heart connection. They never fade. 

Father Henri Nouwen who also lived in a L’Arche Community wrote about the diversity of people comparing us to mosaic stones. Each one of us is represented by a tiny piece of colour, beautiful on its own, but much more revealing of the face of God when seen as a design together. 

Our community lives and breathes suffering and struggle. It lives and breathes love and compassion. It displays the faces of humanity, shaded by the lined scars of adversity....and a longing for connection and validation between human beings.  Community, he writes, is "where humility and glory touch." And to me, that is where prosperity dwells. You see it abundantly in the welfare office where I worked for many years. Out in the margins I saw, heard, felt and was deeply moved by humility and glory touching.  

A couple of summers ago, I was inspired to write a story poem about a scene I witnessed  in the alley by the Community Kitchen as I sat in my car.   I was the only one who saw it unfold.  I listened with my EYES and I knew in an instant I was richer for the experience.  

A scene from an alley 

Under puddle grey skies they emerge,

in large numbers

filing out through the heavy metal door

lighting up in unison --

An after dinner toke on a full stomach.

The best tasting cigarette of the day

besides the first one with morning coffee.

But sometimes there's no sweet aromatic coffee.

It's made from grains of yesterday

Bitter tar-like substance from the bottom of an urn.  

Sometimes morning begins

starring at the underbelly of a bridge

in backbreaking pain,

where no coffee is brewing

where the only smoke is a discarded butt. 

Sometimes morning begins in

a sock stinking room shared by 10 damp strangers

Shivering under an unknown blanket,

worn and used by others prickly and unwelcoming transience.

Coffee there is weakly tepid

Served in a stained unfamiliar mug. 

At first glance, I see

Weather worn faces seemingly the same

Dazed, angry, bone weary aged.

Empty discards in oversized pants from Sally Ann

in threadbare shirts, wrinkled from sleep

tattered, torn faded colour 

Surrendered souls

Who have seen the bottom of a bottle of cheap whiskey many times

Who have felt the biting winter winds many times

and know it feels the same as the hard slap from the back of a hand.

They've felt them both and know they are the same. 

Strangers lost in a fog of mental illness, no luck, abuse and a lifelong hangover.

Numbed on the bare boned skinned knee open wound existence. 

But tonight,
as they emerge and converge for an after dinner smoke
Gathering in an puddle filled alley
hidden by a brick building,
where the shelter and the kitchen
make it a meaningful destination,

I look again and see some familiar faces.

People who have visited me in my office.

Human beings I have seen around town.

The man with the marionette monkey

who makes it dance for money every Saturday at the market.

The woman who collects bottles and cans from the dumpster behind my office building

The mom and her two kids whom I've shared a coffee chat with in her home.

The guy who sleeps on the bench in the park downtown

A few whose names I don't know,

but have seen in the lobby of the welfare office

.Many I don't recognize.

Many are lost in a schizophrenic fog.

Some gather together to talk, while others stay within themselves

lost in the periphery of the marginalized.

Marginalized by the marginalized.

Our society breathes hierarchy like dragon's breath
 

One small statured man walks gingerly and awkward

trying to pretend he isn't completely drunk

Another with a shaved head whose eyes dart in paranoia paces.

And another, and another............same look.......same space....
 

Sober --stark, real, cold, wet reality. Who wants sober? 

I change the lens I am using in a blink

I change my gaze and what do I see… 

Right in the middle of this ragamuffin group?

Is a little boy

about 4 years old

with a red ballcap

and red crocs on his feet

glides by on his scooter.

Whoosh............his colourful presence

captivates.

Like a taste of watermelon on a hot day. 

In and out he sails,

splashing through the grey sky puddles

twisting and turning his scooter

past the sad adult faces too hurt to pay attention

Oblivious to his joy

He oblivious (maybe) to their sorrow.
 

The scooter skids and the little boy yelps.

All eyes turn to him.

His mother, incapacitated by a full leg cast lurches forward

Her maternal response stymied by immobility.

Her face shows concern.  Love.  Fear. Her boy needs her. 

Out of the blue…….

A found blessing friendly face intervenes.

He tends to the little boy,

then with a twinkle of dare, he playfully takes the scooter

and turns the scene into a circus romp. 

He's a smiling clown makes the little boy laugh from his belly

His scraped knee forgotton as he watches this man balance on a wee scooter…

Those worn out adults on the sidelines, thirsty for relief begin to cheer on the clown.

Set in the midst of grey puddle despair

A community of smiles grin the grace of abundance.
 

It left me wondering if Jesus was close by taking it all in.

I think He was.

He always is, isn’t he? 

Out in the margins, where true prosperity dwells,

Where humility and glory touch?

Jesus is there taking it all in.

 

The Bible says, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”   This includes both sides of the coin……. having the chance to spill out a slice of your story to someone who is listening with their whole being and being the receiver of a human story as you listen with your whole being.  Human stories.  Heart connections.  As the extension of God’s love, we have it to give and then some.  And when we do, our whole community prospers.  

This week, I hope you have a chance to see abundance from a new angle…. And to feel the fullness of its discovery.  May you listen and be listened to as you share a slice of your stories.  From the heart, where treasures dwells.  May you find the blessing of discovery gazing into the eyes of another face of God in your life.  

familiarity

 most recent shot of Lisa 

who still allows me to photo stalk her legs, the dear woman!.  

she's gonna have a new baby!

Familiarity offers respite to a clenched soul.  It allows the easing of muscles, while reacquainting with solid ground.  Routine straightens the staggered walk, especially if it encourages a reunion with the groove you've chosen to enhance the more mundane tasks of life.   Early Saturday mornings offer this to me as a gift. My routine is familiar and I own it outright.  It is not tied to being responsible for anyone else.  It is not contingent on anyone but me.  Saturday mornings have always felt like a bouquet of fresh air after a long week of juggling roles and responsibilities. 

No matter what season, it always begins with quiet time sipping the first cup of tea in the morning, some writing, a little reading, and if I'm lucky, awakening along with the rising of the sun.  Awakening is more than just opening your eyes and rubbing the sleep from them.  It is a light toe tapping spring of spirit, that liberates thoughts from their dream state.   It is a process of reflection allowing the chance to seek out a balance.  Unclenching... releasing.... by taking time for myself before the day gets away from me.   Sometimes it works, sometimes there are just too many burdens to filter through.  No matter what, however, it certainly lightens the load somewhat and allows me a chance to catch my breath.  

As much as I'm a true extravert, or maybe because I'm one, I need quiet alone time to regroup.  Saturday mornings is the time I cherish it the most.... free to wander and shake out the restlessness and pent up work stuff.

Before anyone stirs, I'm out the door, camera in hand, on my way to the Fredericton market. Alone.  It's a destination that always puts a smile on my face.  A sense of liberation envelopes me, knowing everyone at home is safe and sound.  I don't have to worry.  If you aren't aware of this.....Mommas worry, even when they really don't have to.  There's always a inherent niggling feeling in the pit of the gut when the activity level is high and everyone is out of the house doing their own thing.  I don't have that on  Saturday mornings.   Just a smile....a light step, a head full of morning awakening stuff and my favourite tunes.   

Rarely do I miss attending.  My favourite time of day to be there is when some of the vendors are busy getting organized.... when there is room to mill about without the mid morning crowds.  My path crosses with friends who work there, and friends who I may not have seen in a while.  It's all about catching up, and sharing a light hearted smile or too.  

Sometimes I arrange to meet a friend for breakfast, but usually my time is free and the conversations I get caught up in are unpredictably interesting.  It's all familiar in a good, good way.............  and if you ever want to join me, you'll find me wandering around taking photos, and inhaling deeply the sights and sounds and wonderful aromas all found within the heart of the city.   I'll introduce you to some of my favourite people too.... they ALL have the best stories to share!!!

early morning light catchers.... just like me. :)

the pows and the wows.....

My days are filled with numerous moments, crackling with emotional intensity. Highs and lows, peaks and valleys...... deep soul interactions sprinkled in the grace of poetic lives.

At the beginning of the school year, I visited every classroom and introduced myself. I told them why I was there..... to listen to their stories, to help them find balance, to encourage and to support them as they focused on their studies. I shared a little of me .......... who I was, where I came from, what I could offer, and most importantly how glad I was to be there because it felt like home to me.

Come tell me your POWS and your WOWS stories, I said. And they have, in a steady stream of unrepressed confessions. Beautiful.

Mostly, I listen to their POWS........the ones that make them keel off to the side like a listing boat taking on water. There's an urgency in the voice, a red flushing of the skin, a wringing of hands, anxious movement. Tears held in for too long cascade.... sometimes attached to relief, sometimes accompanied by embarrassment. Sometimes their tears bring mine close to the surface when the stories pluck certain chords. In those time captured slices of life, there is a sense of intimacy only felt when the depth of the connection swallows you into its gulp.

My days are filled with numerous moments, bubbling to the surface like uncorked champagne. Effervescently complicated ruminations steeped in relationships soured by abuse, addictions, arresting apathy, broken down communication pour out into cups too small to hold the drink. Life champagne overflows too quickly to take sips.

Sometimes, the WOWs walk in..... to celebrate a popping cork accomplishment, an achievement, a decision..... a resolution. We toast the highs and the lows, knowing they often go hand in hand, knowing that crisis is the catharsis for much needed changes. We deserve the champagne. It's hard work being human. It's hard work recognizing the dented imperfections in our body armor.

ah..........but I sit in peace. tonight ......... is peace, and a little breathing space .... to reflect while inhaling deeply. I haven't had much of that, and I can feel the need to. I have this urge to go find a pew.

I am in a good place. Front row seat. High intensity sound. Multi-sensory upheavals and newly found calms. I'm finding my way helping others find theirs too. I can't tell you how much that makes me smile.

I am in a good place. Face to face. Deep glowing hearts. Wide eyed interactions. Connections where kindness and kinship grow daily.

A good place........ to learn, to grow, to experience, to teach, to listen, to guide, to feel the discomfort gnawing in souls. It makes a difference.

My days are filled with numerous tenderhearted moments of meeting, greeting, and being there to catch the POWs however I can. I guess you could say that I'm helping people turn their POWS into WOWs. I feel blessed.

gimme shelter....

How does someone living in the land of plenty end up living in squalor down by the river? How does a human being grow up only to be discarded, abandoned, invisible and forgotten? I took these photos of a small outdoor nesting place for a few homeless people in the city of Fredericton. Located down by the edge of the Saint John River, so close to the Delta Hotel that you could shoot your spit and it would most likely hit the bricks. Haves and Have Not's residing as neighbours. The Have Not's know it. The Haves are oblivious. The neighbour on the other side? The Lieutenant Governor's mansion. Nice......

The area is referred to by government and community organizations, and the media as "tent city." Its hardly a city when you compare it to the excessively enormous shanty towns and makeshift communities under overpasses in larger centres. But, it is what it is....a home for the homeless, the transients......the human beings who have either chosen to live outside rather than in, or who cannot and will not abide by the rules of the local Shelters.

If you were walking quickly, or biking leisurely along this portion of the Trans Canada trail, chances are you wouldn't notice the hidden pathways leading to small clearings where human beings have congregated. Summer fauna overlaps the entrances and keeps the secrets behind the leaves...... sort of. Attention has been given to the handful of homeless people by a locally formed committee that was set up to "deal" with the issue. Deemed as dangerous and unsafe due to mental illness, addictions, lawlessness, there is an urgency to rectify the "problem" by finding alternative living arrangements.

There are some who want to use strong tactics to get these "filthy dirty addicts..." out of the city altogether. Put them on a bus.... move them to another town. Get rid of the problem. Quick and clean...resolve the issue by pushing it on. This "approach" reeks of impatience and disregard. No time or interest in finding out why another human being has fallen so far down and away from "functioning in the community" or being "self-sufficiently independent," these strongarmed bureaucrats see them as an issue that needs to be managed. No time to be curious or to see how beneficial it would be to connect in some way with these Tent people in order to learn WHY and WHAT HAPPENED...... They probably spend more time discussing what colour their new office furniture is going to be than truly caring enough to take the time to understand the individual human beings who have fallen.

There are others who sit across from the strongarm types who are quick to say...... Give them housing. They bark out their politics to anyone who will listen .... the issue is not enough affordable housing. The government doesn't have enough affordable housing!! Oh yeah, if only we had a place to park them that would solve the problem, now wouldn't it? hmmmmm......... no. It's not that simple. It also isn't that simple just to pour money into a bottomless pit with no foundation either. Housing doesn't make a home.

If we had all the money in the world, would the issue of homelessness be solved?

Homelessness is a symptom of a much larger systemic problem where one social service department or agency works in a silo providing their goods, while another offers up another package of goods and no one communicates effectively. Communities don't get off scot free either. Its not just a "problem" for the public sector to manage! Everyone plays a role because it isn't an "issue" that has to be solved. It's not a "problem" that has an easy fix answer like some math equation.

A person living on the streets, or down by the river, or in a tent in the woods, on a park bench, in a car, under a bridge, may have a handful of people whom they receive some form of assistance from. Social assistance, food, methadone, addictions counselling, shelter options, medical assistance. Sadly, not one of those helping frontline people have the capacity within the confines of their job description to fully assist this human being. Why? Time. Work constraints. Designated roles and responsibilities don't allow for it. Lack of genuine political will. Lack of financial resources. Community fear. Bias.

So, the perpetual problem continues...... and every now and then when the neighbourhood raises their ire, or when the Queen comes to town the issue of homelessness hits the front page of the local newspaper. Then, it dies down.......... becomes invisible and the human being Have Not's are lost beyond the margins, away from any attention.

Autumn is now here...... and the nights are colder.

soulspace.....part one....

In a tent called Hebron on Saturday morning, I met two women attending the Greenbelt Festival together. We spoke briefly but somehow managed to step deeply into a place where empathy resides. We understood one another. Good thing since it was empathy we were supposed to be talking about!

One woman openly admitted to how tired she was. Bone tired. Depleted. She felt she had no more empathy to give. As a Pastor, she had given up her last ounce of caring. 7 funerals in quick succession, she oversaw the grief of many. As a wife of a husband who is disabled, she had stretched herself beyond love. Her soul was parched. Her eyes were swimming in unfallen tears, ready to spill down her drawn face.

Her goal in attending a "talk" at Greenbelt on Empathy was to gather information in order to be a better Minister. It was supposed to be a cerebral exercise. Instead, it became a personal need...a heart and soul experience. I said...... "I think you're here to fill your own boots......Put aside your original goal. Spend the weekend filling your own boots.... You know what they say about putting on the oxygen mask on a plane? You put your own on first before you try to help another."

The other woman agreed, and encouraged her friend to look after herself .... to seek what she needed at Greenbelt, not what others may learn from her. Her tears fell..........she smiled. I could sense relief. This caring, giving, strong willed woman was given permission to let go. To soften.

As she softened, I realized why my need to attend Greenbelt was so strong. It was like a lightbulb went on inside my head. I was there to fill my own boots....er, I mean wellies... :) Sometimes its easier to see it in others before you can recognize it in yourself. And when you take a step into a conversation beyond the surface chatter, there's a pretty good chance you will glean insight into your own stuff.

Whatever triggers us to a point where we engage heart to heart with someone is more often than not tied to where we are personally. Does that make sense?? In other words, our ability to understand where someone else is emotionally comes from a place of where we are emotionally. Humans mirror one another. We may have very different set of circumstances and struggles, our thinking brains may be wired differently, but we always connect at an emotionally spiritual level because we share the same bag of feelings.

Looking into the teary eyes of this woman, I was touched. I found myself transported to a place to where self awareness sits waiting to be discovered. I could see it happening in her as well. Whoa. One split second look into each others eyes linked us to a place of understanding one another's needs. They were the same..... Strangers.....and then in one brief moment of sharing in a tent called Hebron? Empathy kicked in and took us to a shared nod of knowing. While this was happening in the moment, my thoughts quickly linked to what had been described to me by Pip and Paul as a "Greenbelt moment...." It was one of many that day and it wasn't until I returned home that I saw the synchronicity of them. Kind of spooky really...........but SO affirming.

Then, it was her turn.....she asked me if I had been to Soulspace.

"Soulspace.....? No, I havent....I don't even know what it is."

She described a setting they had found the night before, situated on the fifth level of the Cheltenham Racecourse grandstand. Not only did it offer an amazing view of the whole area.....the valley where the campsites, venues and tents were located and the beautiful rolling hills which surrounded it, it offered a sanctuary....a place to find quiet.

My new friends shared with me how deeply moving it was to walk into Soulspace, tired and dragged out from life knocking the wind out of you, and feeling a sense of sacredness. I could see just how this place had impacted them. Their smiles told me. I could hear it too..... there was a feeling of whispered reverence, of awe in their voices. I learned how emotionally uplifting it was for them in a surprising way when they admitted that it had moved them to tears. Just by describing the setting, I could FEEL the oxygen filling them up with fresh air. They encouraged me to go........ go on up to Soulspace.

We left the Hebron tent together, but quickly said our goodbyes and wished one another well. And for the first time in the two days I had been there, I felt very alone in a sea of people. The crowds had boosted to 20,000 people, and I only knew a handful, all of whom were busy volunteering and connecting with their old Greenbelt friends. I also felt extremely tired. Two "wee hours" gatherings , and a few earlier in the week and my energy felt depleted. I think the combination of being overwhelmed by the fact that when I looked out at everyone passing by I saw unfamiliar faces.... no one I recognized at all..... and the fact that I was tired, I kind of lost my footing at that point. I began to wander, unable to make a decision as to what I wanted to take in next.

I walked....grabbed a tea and a toasted sandwich (comfort food) and continued an seemingly aimless trek, in and out of venues with displays that were thought provoking, disturbing, welcoming, interesting...... I didn't talk to anyone. I could've, but I didn't have the confidence to put myself out there at that particular time. So, I stayed within myself. And what I heard as I wandered was the word...... soulspace. I must've heard it uttered 10 times in the course of two hours....

Soulspace.....people were talking about this place...... whether they had been there or not, I didn't know. But, it was entering the collective awareness of the Festival. The more I heard the word uttered the more it felt mysteriously alluring. Who doesn 't like a good mystery to stir one's curiosity?? But, it also made me skeptical. It was so meaningful to those two women I had met..... what if I went there and I didn't feel the same? Or worse, what if it brought up too many emotions and I would lose any semblance of control I had?

What if Soulspace ended up being some new age thing that didn't sit with my personal beliefs? And did I really want to feel as deeply as they did? It's a vulnerable place to go when you allow yourself to be that open spiritually. I continued to wander and wonder, "stuck in a moment," unwillingly to "go there" with my feelings tucked so gingerly under my skin.

I watched a group drumming.....and was so moved by a young man whose body was impacted by cerebral palsy, whose smile was as wide as JOY can be. His father was holding the drum.... this young man, included in the drumming circle with full love and belonging, banged on his drum as best that he could. Ah..... beautiful..... He reminded me so much of the kids and teens I used to work with at the Rehab centre so many years ago.... he was familiar even though I didnt know him personally.

I moved on...... and found myself lured into the music of Kadialy Kouyate who was performing from the Grandstand stage.... Tired and pulled into the sound I found a spot on the grass off to the side of the stage, and laid down to listen to his beautiful music. Families and groups of friends were all around me. I still felt all alone, but I was relaxed and ready to listen. (It wasn't until that night when Pip and I realized we were both at the same concert and both enjoyed it immensely.... I should've known he wasn't too far away. :) )

The only way I can think of describing where I was emotionally while surrounded by a sea of people was in a place outside of the margins. I chose to be there. I could've easily jumped into a variety of events or a conversation. I could've PUT myself into the middle of fellowship, but I didn't seem to have the energy,. Too many late nights in a row had caught up to me. Strangely, I was alright with that. I kind of knew I should just be..... What was niggling at me was my aversion to finding this Soulspace place. It wasn't until I was so spent (low ebb energy for me kicks in around 3pm most days .... I AM a morning person). that I finally decided to seek out this mysterious place that seemed to be haunting my thinking, that could possibly be a place to really rest. So, around that time, I decided I needed to find a place to close my eyes. I set out to find Soulspace on the top floor of the Grandstand....

5 flights of stairs... I climbed, still unsure as to what I was about to find. or how it would make me FEEL. I was winded by the time I reached the doors to the lobby area and wondering if I really would feel a sense of welcome and respite. However, when I opened the doors my eyes alighted on two familiar women who were sitting with their backs to me looking out the window quietly. They were the only two people in the lobby. I couldn't believe it! There they were!!!

Smiling, I walked up behind them, put my hands on their shoulders lightly and said..............

" You know, I think Heaven is easier to find than Soulspace......"

With that, my two new friends whom I had met in the tent called Hebron leapt to their feet and gave me the most amazing group hug.

"YOU made it! " they said.

One of them said.........."you're our soulsister! How amazing that you arrived here at the same time that we are here too. We just spent an hour sitting quietly in there and it was just the right medicine for our tired souls...."

And the other woman........ the Pastor who admitted earlier in the day that she was drained of all empathy? She put her hands on my arms, turned me around and said.... "Go on in. You will love it. Go on in and fill your boots....."

With that, I tentatively turned towards the door with a full heart connection to these women...... and decided to find out just what this Soulspace was all about.

More to come...... :)

cinnamon buns....

Conversation tonight at the Sobey's checkout between Miss Muskie and a bubbly young cashier girl who looked like Anne of Green Gables.....

Hi, how are you tonight?

Great! How about you?

Not bad.... a little tired, but it's been a good day.

Yeah, mine's been pretty good too.... oooops, you know I can never get these bags to open properly. I really suck at bagging groceries. Nothing fits right and it all falls over (as she struggled to shove a boxes of crackers into a plastic bag sideways) It's a good thing my lifelong goal isn't to be a grocery bagger, she said enthusiastically.

"I'm glad you've got bigger plans for your life", I said laughing.... (as I take the packed bag and rearrange it before I put it in the cart. She seemed oblivious to me doing this....).

Yeah, me too....she says as she puts the grapes in the bottom of the bag and adds heavy items on top.....oh....I'd kill for one of those cinnamon buns! No really, I'd kill for one of those cinnamon buns! She looks me right in the eye, smiling with a lightness in her voice.

I'd give you one, but I have to take them to the school tomorrow. We're serving breakfast to the students.

What a nice thing to do! hmmmm......should I put the floor cleaner in with your juice? oh, why not. Just be careful not to spill it over! hahaha! She hands me the bag....I just put it in the cart hoping the juice doesn't get poisoned.

So, if you don't want to be a grocery bagger, what do you want to do? I ask as I save the bread from being squished by the 4 litre bag of milk....

I want to be a Psychiatrist. Can you find a place for this in one of your bags? thanks....

Really? That's interesting.... Why do you want to be a Psychiatrist? I respond while taking the frozen strawberries from her and finding a baghome for it....

I've been in the mental health system for 5 years and I think I'd be good at it. Plus, there are no good Psychiatrists anywhere. They are all such idiots. They can't help anyone, even themselves. I have often wondered if they got into the field because they were trying to deal with their own stuff.... every single one of them i've met are useless. Dangerous too! I thought I'd become the first one to help someone. Do you know Dr. ********? He's the worst.

Yeah, I reply nodding knowlingly.....I've met him before. He's got a nasty reputation.

He's unbelievable! I can't believe no one's killed the guy. I told him he was a crotchedly old man who wouldn't know how to care if his life depended on it. I don't know what his problem is, but he is definately not a people person. I mean why would anyone WANT to be a Psychiatrist if they don't like talking with people....??? I can't stand the man. He's dangerous!!! Your total comes to .......... Do you have an air miles card?

Ah................, yes .... here it is..... (as I continue to pack the cart with rearranged grocery bags, a little worried about my dozen eggs....) I think Dr. ******* has probably pushed a few off the deep end.

Oh, I know he has. He very nearly pushed me off the end! He made me crazier than I was! Great talking to you..........have a great night..........!

She turns her attention to the next person in line, and I walk out pushing my cart wondering if the off kilter Anne of Green Gables look a like would really kill for a cinnamon bun. maybe.....

do you have conversations like this at the check out counter?

To catch a thief.....we DID!

I awoke early yesterday morning all hot and uncomfortable because I am at that magical age where menopausal heat seeps into your system like a steam locomotive and PUSHES right out of your toes at approximately 4 am. I couldn't sleep let alone get comfortable and the more I thought about it, the more irritating the flames shooting from my cute little feet became. Unpleasant? It sucks! It does a number on your head too. It ain't pretty!

So, it was in this frame of mind that I found myself cooling down in front of a blasting fan with a cup of tea in my hand checking out the recent posts of my bloggie friends. OH, shut up! I can hear you from here! What the hell is she doing drinking hot tea in the middle of a late forties FLASH? I recognize the contradiction. I'm a creature of habit. Tea and 4 am blog reading go together. Oh, who am i kidding, tea goes with everything. It was the first thing I asked for after 23 hours of hard labour and dammit, they brought me one! A cuppa in one hand and a newborn in the other. So why the hell wouldn't it go with menopause??? I'm a thirsty multi-tasker. Irish, Scottish and English flows through my system. I.am.doomed for a spot of tea.

Quickly, the heat moved right into my gut when I innocently checked a copyright site (I have since posted it on my sidebar) and found that my own formulated words from a piece I had written just this week had been nicked and used by another blogger, living and breathing (uneasily NOW) in Malaysia. I had seen many visits on my sitemeter over the past 6 months from there, but never thought much of it, because most people who visit my blog don't leave comments. They read and move on with hopefully something to think about. THEY DON'T NICK IT! Needless to say, I felt pierced and violated. I couldn't believe it!!! How could anyone consider owning much of what I've written when it comes from my own essence?

At first I thought perhaps he had stolen just this piece because only one was caught by the copyright site, but I thought I'd check his previous posts, and saw that he had lifted whole posts, as well as bits of pieces I had written as starting points for his own posts. Photos, poetry, prose, even silly Q and A posts were used by this guy. (Interestingly, I surreptitiously learned that much of what I've written does have my own unique style....my fingerprints were easy to see! I didn't know that until I went through Anton's blog! They jumped right out at me! SO, thank you Anton you eeejit.....your immoral behaviour actually enhanced my awareness! funny how that happens eh?)

Tonight, however, he's gone. Oh, he showed up again under a new name and blog site with most of my writing missing though a few still standing like he owned them. But after the pressure of my friends, he high tailed it out of blogland. Again. We'll see if he shows up in another form. Most likely, he will. The HEAT is on him now! I'm cooling my heels.

Plagarism is a more than just a surface blight. It is a complete and utter violation. Immoral and illegal, it is fraudulent action of someone whose morals are despicably missing. Consequently, I have been in touch with an old university friend who is a lawyer with a large copyright firm in Toronto and she is researching internet ownership rights and whether there is a precedence set in the land of blogging. Obviously there have been situations where published articles have been stolen from the media and visa versa, but its unknown as to whether a piece of creative writing stolen from one blogger to another has ever been brought to court. I'm very interested to find out and await her counsel.

In the meantime, I have been in touch with the Blogger folks and have asked them to help me with respect to dealing with the pieces which have been cached under ANTON's blogname. I am incensed that my work....my creative intellectual property will forever be floating out in cyberspace under his name and i can't rectify it.

What started out as a feeling of being alone turned into the most extraordinary day of feeling lifted by a wide ranging group of BEE UUU TEEEE FULLL people who came to my aide. Mike, my very first bloggie friend shared this with a group of us through an email that flew around the GLOBE!!!
_____________

Dana, et al.,

It would appear that the blogging community has dealt the blog in question it's death blow. Earlier, the link you provided did not go to that specific post, but the blog could still be accessed. There was just one post - probably stolen as well. I flagged the blog based on your email - your word is good enough for me - and I suspect I was not alone. The blog in question (now just a short time later) no longer exists. It is as it should be. I have no problem with anyone reposting my work as long as three simple conditions are met: it cannot be for commercial use; it must be properly attributed; and it cannot be altered from its original form. If anyone reproduces my work as their own, I get angry. Very angry. More than angry, I get justice - and it appears as though justice has been served.
It's good to see the blogging community working together. Most of us do this as a labour of love - for ourselves and anyone else who finds our words insightful, amusing, cathartic or whatever other value they may hold. We don't (most of us) get paid to do this, but it is work nonetheless. For someone to steal it is wrong on too many levels - that it is illegal is only the tip of the iceberg.
You are a kinder soul than I, Dana. I would not have given (and in fact did not) this so-and-so a chance to remove the plagiarized material... I simply would have hit him or her with everything I had. The crime has been committed - it goes well beyond mere intention or a "little" mistake - we are talking about entire posts!
I have not checked to see if my material (which is copyrighted and noted on my blog) has been stolen in a while. Although it is difficult to be absolutely sure, it looks like my property remains within my control. But thanks for the reminder, it is a serious issue.

Mike

______________________________________________
My reply....?

Hello everyone.....:)

Blogging most certainly is a labour of love, Mike. You are so right. It is also such a wonderful community of shared passions. So often I am inspired by something I've read, like a jumping off point for my own writing. There is a terrific give and take, and when someone violates that flow of creativity by stealing, it is wonderful to know (and feel) that the community does pull together.

I thank you all for your assistance. I have sent him another email threatening him and making it perfectly clear that I won't sit idle again and let something like that happen. I also told him he should be ashamed of himself.....asked him what the Dala i Lama would think of such sinful behaviour! :) Buddhist my ass!

I did get in touch with Blogger and file a formal complaint. Whatever he has posted in the past has been cached, so they can still follow up if they havent done already.

I wish I had copied the comments from everyone! They were priceless!! I had a few facebook friends nail the guy as well, so I am completely confident tha t he is shaking in his weasley boots today.

Thank you all! I'll post something about it all, hopefully tonight.

cheers...

I'm off to pour myself a glass of wine and toast you all xxx
_________________________________

Thank you all for you kindness and concern. I can't tell you how grateful and humble I feel. The attention you poured on not only energized my drive to tackle this situation, but left me feeling affirmed as a writer and a friend. Carmi? A very special thank you to you my dear friend. If I may, I will post a separate blog with the correspondance you initiated on my behalf. I can't tell you how much I appreciated your efforts. Remind me never to get on your shit list! haha!

I am actually very fired up and more interested in writing because of this episode. Over the past couple of weeks, I was seriously considering leaving blogging. M y ideas felt stale, and my fingers weren't finding the keyboard as enticing. In fact, I had intended to write a piece this weekend and entitle it "To Blog or not To Blog...." However, this has spurred me on, and certainly made me realize just how important, precious and inspiring this little virtual global village is to me.

A lot of reflections happened yesterday...... good strong reflections on the importance of community, the joy of belonging, the empowering sense of efforts. I may have started yesterday alone simmering in a hot flash with a cup of tea in my hand and a look of horror on my face when I first realized my work had been lifted...... but it sure wasn't long before I was joined by a beautiful force to be reckoned with!

thank you ..... thank you....

Now I have to get a group of 5 beautiful camp counsellors (three of whom are sleeping as new best friends in my basement as I write) back to camp after a two day respite. I've fed, and laundered.....and listened to many hilarious stories... I plan to orchestrate a singsong along the way..... won't they LOVE that?? Little do they know that Muskie has taken over me today.....and she's drivin!

PS. Anton? You out there??? I have yet to receive that email you told Carmi you were sending me. If YOU try to steal my work or anyone else's again, you will be caught. As for what you have already done? Sit tight buddy, I have a lawyer who wants to talk to you.

having faith in others and in myself...

Communication is layered with our own meaning....our own needs or yearnings. It's easier to assess where the relationship seems to be hovering when you're face to face. You can hear, see, feel, smell, touch, and perceive it. The person is right there in front of you....and even then, we can still walk away with misguided interpretations. However, any other form of communication between two human beings brings with it many more complicated blips. Some are relatively new forms......email, texting, facebooking, twittering....

There is a discomfort felt in the gut when waiting for a response, a reply. You send out a message, a story, a question. You ask for clarification, or reassurance, maybe information. Then, you wait.... and wonder..... and fret. Even when you cognitively and intuitively KNOW that the person you are trying to connect with is dealing with their own set of issues, life conflicts, busyness, there is niggling poke at the fret button. At least there is for me. Maybe I'm overly sensitive? Impatient? Needy? I'd say all three.....

I begin to question myself, my actions, my own frame of mind when there is a long gap between putting yourself out there through your words and receiving some kind of acknowledgement or interpretive response. If I've REALLY pried open my flesh to spill something emotionally intimate and I get nothing back, I begin to feel anxious, wondering if I have done something wrong, or if I've worded something in a way that may have been misinterpreted. Depending on how I'm feeling and where I am at emotionally and confidently, this type of "stinking thinking" can sink my boat. I may have started off in a free flying craft with the sails up catching the gusts and skipping right along, but if I'm ignored, put aside, dismissed the boat all of a sudden starts taking in water. The wind dies down and I begin to sink into the stinking thinking mode of travel like a castaway alone and bobbing in unfriendly waters.

Irrational thoughts lead to irrational emotions ..... which in turn leads to irrational actions/reactions. Actually, I think it is more a vicious circle which can begin at any point. My mood could be despondent and it will in turn lead to an impulsive action to satisfy me temporarily which then leads to feeling guilt and shame from the thoughts that follow the action. If I happen to be caught in that dog chasing performance, it's difficult to pull out of it before it's too late.

Maybe its because I have a big problem with rejection. I guess its happened one too many times and as much as I try not to let it shade my thinking and feeling, I'm not often competent at that. It seems like it's always there, hovering in the foreground. When I find myself in the middle of another possible situation where this may be occuring, I try to see it as an opportunity to reflect on the refreshed irritation in order to learn how effectively let go of the stupid thoughts and hurt feelings. That way, I can try to step aside from my vantage point to read my own flushed and feather ruffled feelings. Then, I try to explore my own behaviour and actions that seems illicit a non response (and a strong desire to receive one).

It's a value thing too....I try not to do this to others because I find it so disrespectful, so when it happens to me, it rubs against this value button.

Rejection and that sickly sense of abandonment....the fear of being left out or left behind has a strong pull on many of us. It's an ingrained schema we have to fight tooth and nail to overcome. It kicks the gut until it empties, leaving you feel hollow and unloved. Where it comes from is unique to the individual it wants to strangle. But, I have grown to believe that we ALL experience it, some more intensely than others, at some point in our lives.

Have you felt the hollow??? How have you dealt with it??

I have a tendancy to stick my neck out more often than many I think. I do take risks and connect with many people, whether its a brief conversation with the muffin lady at the local convenience store, or someone in my life whom I consider a close friend. Consequently there are more chances for me to be in a position of being rejected....dismissed.... ignored.

For the most part I can walk away and move on. But not when I'm feeling it within a relationship which has deep meaning in my life. Then, if I'm not careful, it can pierce me deeply. This is something I've learned about myself only this year, and when the realization hit me....when those light bulbs went off, I literally doubled over. Why? Because once I knew that the trigger was a fear of rejection, all the times it had happened, particularly over the course of the last 10 years, went flooding through my system and knocked the wind out of me.

Viktor Frankl wrote.....“When we are no longer able to change a situation - we are challenged to change ourselves.” I read this quote the other day and just shook my head. So often, I have tried to change a situation through my actions, thinking that if I kept trying to connect, maybe the situation would right itself. When I read this Frankl quote, my initial reaction was a realization that this is where I am stalled in the challenge of changing myself. Knowing that my behaviour....my need to connect with a few people whom I seem to be slipping away from may be perceived differently than my intention tells me I need to change me. I need to recognize my own triggers, my own emotions, thinking, actions and then perhaps let it be.

I tend to read things into things......I get paid for my intuition and assessment skills. They come naturally to me. But, sometimes they go into overdrive. I read too much into things and then get too emotionally incensed. A lot of times, I'm right. I'm kind of like one of those sniffer dogs at an accident scene. I usually smell it right. Sometimes I'm wrong however, usually when I'm overly anxious to make a friendship work, or overly needy of reassurance.

Right now, that's me. Perhaps in the future it won't be? I won't feel the need to seek out affirmation? I hope so. It would be nice to relax a bit more about the lack of response.

In the meantime..... bear with me. I'm doing the best that I can to pry myself away from stinking thinking......

ps. Ironically, this was not written with the intentions of seeking out empathy. I have found the whole process of learning how to be more confidently patient, to trust a Higher Power when it comes to realizing I can only control my own actions, thoughts and emotions and HOW I react to others' behaviour....interesting and eye opening. It's a universal process I believe .... one which has become more complicated as we have allowed technology and different means of communication into our daily interactions.